


Never

by HaganeNoMorals



Category: Unwind Dystology - Neal Shusterman
Genre: Brothers AU, Brotp: Lev and Connor, Connor Calder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2333495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaganeNoMorals/pseuds/HaganeNoMorals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor will tear his own body to pieces before he lets them tithe Lev. The only Calder sibling who had moaned and dismayed and rejected his role as guardian of the holy child through his thirteen years of duty. Of course, Lev notes, his big brother decides to claw his way to the ends of the earth to protect him only now that he's being told to let go. Typical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will be short, as it allows me to update more often, and updating motivates me to write more. Sometimes I'll post more than one chapter at once.

"Lev just _fuck off_. I said no."

The slice of moonlight that cuts through the window is thin, but Connor refuses to turn on a lamp regardless. He holds his backpack where the white stripe spreads across his bedroom floor, stuffing it carelessly with some clothes and a bottle of something Lev can't read the name of in the darkness. It makes him uneasy, but that’s why he's here after all. So Lev persists.

"Please? You can’t stay home just this once?"

"Keep your voice down. Mom and dad will kick my ass if they find the vodka, and Ed will kick my ass if they dump it.”

Lev doesn't bother pointing out that he is keeping his voice down, and has been the whole time, just as he always does when Connor is doing something he shouldn’t be. "I hate it when you sneak drugs into the house. Do you know how much trouble you can get into with that stuff? Mom and dad, too."

"I don’t give a shit. If I tell you I’m not going will you shut up and go back to bed?"

Lev won't dignify the suggestion, so Connor continues. "Why do you care? It’s not like I’m making you come with me or anything. I'll be back in a few hours."

Of course he will be. Lev knows that. Connor will come home, just like last time, and the time before that. He always does eventually, seemingly none too concerned over whatever might happen in the meantime. "Because I’m sick of lying for you. Do you ever think maybe that’s not my job? Some of us still care about sin."

All Lev gets is a snort and the implication that Connor is rolling his eyes in the dark. “Maybe mind your own business and it won’t even be lying anymore. You just genuinely won’t know,” he says. “I’m sorry you’re so at odds with God for not being a snitch.”

“I only have two more weeks. Why can’t you just do this for me?”

Connor zips up his bag and is frozen. His frown holds an anger that Lev has seen more than usual in his brother as of late. It's justified, of course, and Lev once again feels wrong for guilt tripping him. He regrets having mentioned it, but it's too late to back out now.

"You'll have plenty of time to repent, in your 'divided state' or whatever. Doesn't your noble sacrifice kind of make you even for a few white lies?" Connor slings his bag onto his shoulder, opens the door, and waits. "Get out."

Lev gives up and obliges. Connor shuts the door behind them and starts down the hall. 

"I could tell Mom and Dad, you know," Lev whispers. He should. He should wake their parents and tell them where Connor is going because what’s the point of abstaining from lies if you make exceptions for your brother who sneaks out at night and hides contraband behind his dresser drawers?

"You won't."

Lev scowls at Connor's back until he's gone before going back to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, just as the one prior, their mother makes a point of joining Lev for breakfast. This time she even gives their housekeeper leave and cooks it herself, somewhat to Lev's dismay. His father is too busy to stay for family breakfasts just yet. 

"So," Mrs. Calder says. "Where's your brother?" She slides some considerably crispy french toast onto Lev's plate and settles in next to him at a table designed for far more than two diners. A showy thing, an ornate focal point the Calders had custom made and installed before Lev was even born. The table is a log sliced in half top to bottom and balanced on a stainless steel perch, the top glossy and smooth but the rest mostly unrefined. Rounded chairs hang from the ceiling by chains. Almost every year for as long as Lev can remember, one of those chairs becomes empty at dinner time, and now they only ever used four at once when there aren't any guests. The rest hang still and untouched.

"Maybe he's still asleep." Lev chooses his words carefully. He hasn't seen Connor all morning, either, but it's not a lie. 

She purses her lips and spreads an embroidered napkin over her lap. "Maybe. We'll just have to eat without him." Yanking her lips into a warm smile, his mother folds her hands for prayer. "Do you want to say grace, Lev?"

"Sure." Lev bows his head over clasped hands and closes his eyes. "Lord, we thank you for this gracious meal. Bless this food and our good fortune." It's only a Saturday morning breakfast between the two of them. Still, Lev opens one eye, sees the charred surface of his toast, and keeps going. "And thank you for the loving presence of family in our beautiful home. May we enjoy these final days together as my tithing draws near and give thanks to you, God, for this time we spend in each other's company. Amen."

Mrs. Calder reaches out and touches Lev's hand across the table. "That was lovely, Lev."

"Thanks, mom."

After poking at his breakfast for a good five minutes, Lev hears footsteps in the hallway. Connor shuffles in bleary-eyed and with a look that suggests he may murder anyone who tries to speak to him, or would give it a shot if he were any more lively than a corpse on strings.

Their mother's tight lipped silence lasts a full minute while Connor disregards the french toast with a grimace and drags himself over to the fridge. Lev is proud of her.

"Connor," She says finally as he begins to snack on cold leftovers from the night before. "Where have you been?"

"Out." Connor replies through a mouth full of leftover chicken.

"Did it ever occur to you that staying _in_ and spending time with your brother might be more appropriate from here on out?"

He quirks the eyebrow that Lev knows infuriates her; the one that says she's irrational, that patronizes and disregards her whenever she presents a notion as crazy as Connor's curfew not being the next day's breakfast. "It's eight in the morning. And you're the one who's so eager to get rid of him."

Her chair, not made for dramatic gestures, swings and knocks awkwardly against her thighs she stands up and throws her napkin at the table. "What did I say to you, Connor? I said if this happened again, you would be grounded for the rest of the summer, and I meant it! Apologize to your brother _right_ now and maybe I’ll knock off a week."

Lev's breakfast is forgotten. "Mom, please-"

Connor interrupts him. "What? I thought it was his holy mission or whatever. You should be eager to talk about it, mom. Your baby angel is headed off to fulfill his destiny in just a couple of weeks!" His voice is high, almost hysterical, peppered with something close to laughter, and Lev wonders briefly if he's still drunk or high or both. Connor stalks over to Lev, pinches his cheek hard enough to make it ache, and keeps talking as Lev shoves him away. "Lev would _never_ leave home without asking for permission. You made the generous choice: the kid who does his homework, respects his elders, and came out of your very own womb instead of some homeless teenage hooker!"

"Connor Nathaniel Calder," mom yells, "you-""

"What a perfect son!" Clearly not finished, Connor just raises own voice to match. "You sure did pick the right one to slice up and serve to Jesus on a pearly white platter!"

That's all Connor has to say, or anyone else in the room for that matter. He looks over at Lev with eyes that widen like they only just realized he was there, like maybe he knows he's gone too far but Lev can no longer bring himself to care. Connor curses under his breath as Lev glares at him, jumps up and shoves his chair out of his way with irritation. There’s silence while his mother’s shock wears off. Lev doesn't need to stay. There's little space for much of anything in the remainder of his life as he knows it, and negativity isn't worth the effort.

His mother's fury finally boils over, and her shouting fades away as he retreats to his room.


	3. Chapter 3

Connor's first memory is of envy.  
  
Lev is two. A pale, tottering mess of drool and training diapers who commands more attention than Connor could ever imagine is necessary. He can hardly speak, yet their parents hang on his every garbled attempt at language even as Connor can finally count to one hundred, which is surely much more interesting.  
  
They shroud Lev in white clothes less and less now that they tend to end up stained with the somethings he secretes with reckless abandon anyway. Today he's dressed in red while Marcus chases him around the yard and daddy sits Connor in his lap instead for once. "Levi is very special, Connor. Do you know why?"  
  
Connor does not know why, and the question frustrates him. "Why?"  
  
"Because he has a very special mission to serve God" he says.  
  
"He doesn't even know what God _is_." Connor, on the other hand, knows that God made him and everything else in the universe. He also knows five whole prayers by heart. Lev isn't even potty trained yet. His daddy chuckles even though it's not funny.  
  
" _Who_ God is. You're right. Lev doesn't know who God is. But he will. And when he does, he's going to help him make sick people feel better"  
"Like a doctor?"  
  
"No, not exactly."  
  
Connor looks at Lev from across the yard. He's giggling and running like he'll fall down any second. He always does. It isn't fair that Lev gets to be special. His parents always told Connor that _he_ was special, too, for being so smart and for showing up on their doorstep when he was a baby as a very wonderful surprise. But then how can two people be so special at the same time?  
  
Connor prays every night at bedtime. He loves God very much, just like his parents say. "Why can't I help God? I thought _I_ was special."  
  
"You'll serve God, too. Just differently. And you are special. All of your brothers and sisters are special. Just in different ways."  
  
The word special is getting confusing, and Connor begins to wonder if it really means much after all.  
  
"Guess what, Connor?" Daddy says. "You have a super important mission, too."  
  
Looking up at his Dad, some of Connor's anger melts away. "I do?"  
  
"Sure you do! You have to be the best big brother ever. Look out for Lev, okay? Keep him safe for me. He can't do this without you" He gives a sly grin. "Don't tell any of your other brothers though. We don't want them getting jealous, do we?"  
  
"Okay, Dad."


	4. Chapter 4

He finds them when Connor steals his surface. Again.  
  
Lev assumes their parents took away Connor's after the incident from the other morning. All the same, he wants it back. While forgiveness is a virtue, Lev isn't ready to be feeling quite so charitable. So he goes to Connor's room and searches his desk, under his bed, the nooks and crannies where he sometimes stores cannabis and coffee beans.  
In the end, Lev storms into the entertainment room where Connor sits playing video games, turns the power off, and throws two train tickets to Boston, Massachusetts in his face.  
  
"What the hell are you doing? I was..." Seeing the tickets in his lap, Connor trails off and blanches. "Look, I was going to-"  
  
"You're just going to leave?" Lev fumes. "How long have you even been dating Ariana? Six months?"  
  
Connor gives Lev a funny look that just makes him angrier. "These tickets are for Friday. You weren't going to stay for my tithing party?" Tears are fogging his vision and he despises them. "Were you even going to say goodbye?"  
  
"Yes." The answer packs almost enough resolve to make Lev believe it. "I was going to tell you, I swear. But mom and dad can't know, Lev. I didn't want you to have to keep it a secret for so long."  
  
"You honestly think I can keep this a secret?" Lev wants to yell, but it's difficult enough to keep his voice steady while his throat is tied in knots. "Connor, you're running away from home."  
  
"That's not true. Ariana's sister is getting married and she wants me to go to the wedding with her. Her parents hate me, and mom and dad would never let me go, so I bought us train tickets. It's not forever."  
  
For the first time in a long while, Lev actually wants be furious. Anything is be better than how much this hurts. Connor is saying his permanent goodbye early to be some girl's plus one at a wedding. It's stupid, selfish, senseless.  
  
“Of _course_ it’s forever, you idiot,” Lev shouts, and his voice breaks, and he hates himself. “A week from now I’m going to be gone _forever_ and you're not going to see me again _forever_. _Everything_ from here on out is forever and you don’t even give a shit!”  
  
Connor doesn't even look sorry. Surprised to hear his little brother swear, maybe, but not sorry. He doesn't stand up, or turn to face him, just sits on the couch with his neck craned to watch Lev cry, wearing a frown so minor, he may as well have done nothing worse than eat the last cookie.  
  
"I never knew if you actually hated me," Lev says, trembling. "I thought maybe it was just normal big brother stuff, you know? I guess I was wrong."  
  
Turning Connor's game back on, Lev turns to leave. "Have fun in Boston."  
  
Why doesn't he even look sorry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i cannot for the life of me remember what they use as personal computers in unwind i can't find it in any of the books im sorry i just made up some bullshit forgive me)  
> edit: i had to fix this chapter up a bit. i made a pretty obvious mistake that i should have picked up on and i thought i could do better than what i had before.


	5. Chapter 5

At dinner that night, all four of them are present. The distance between Lev and Connor is frigid from the moment Connor walks in ten minutes late. Their father shakes his head and chuckles like it's funny. Lev doesn't think it is.  
  
"You haven't left the house all day and you're still late, Connor. That takes some skill."  
  
"What? Oh, yeah. Sure."  
  
Lev can feel Connor staring at him when he thinks nobody will notice, just as he can feel a furious energy rolling off his own shoulders and spreading across the table like flame. He keeps his eyes on his plate  
  
"So", Mom says. "What's the matter, Lev? It seems like something's on your mind."  
  
He raises a water glass to his lips and gulps down more than he needs before answering in a low deadpan. "Just mashed potatoes. Delicious."  
  
She shifts in her chair. "I've been thinking; maybe we can lift Connor's grounding for the day tomorrow and go water skiing. I'm sure he would love to teach you."  
  
Connor mumbles a kind of approval, but this time Lev refuses to answer point-blank, opting instead to busy himself with another mouthful of potatoes.  
  
Dad drums his fingertips against the table, sending a familiar frown in Connor's direction. "Oh, come on. Connor, what did you do this time? Do you really need to antagonize your brother when he's leaving so soon?"  
  
Connor is silent. He stops his already slow eating altogether to stare at Lev and wait. Apparently he's nervous, and somewhere between his good intentions Lev decides he deserves it.  
  
"Isn't it funny that the railroads are still running? Nobody ever takes the train anymore," he says, staring back at Connor, who focuses on his food and pretends not to notice.  
  
Unfortunately, his parents are nearly unphased. Any suspicion is overridden by the need to comply. If their son the tithe wants to talk about railroads, then by God they will talk about railroads while his mouth is still his to talk with. And it it’s weird, then it’s only natural that he would seem weird at such a sensitive time in his life. Railroads it will be, for better or for strange.  
  
“Well, not really,” his mother says. “It’s a go-to option for people who don’t like to fly. Some people think that it’s safer from clapper attacks, or that riding a train is some kind of novelty experience. It all seems ridiculous to me, but it lets them keep ticket prices high.”  
  
It’s the perfect setup. A quick _‘Connor would know’_ , or _‘how much is a round trip to Boston, Connor?’_ and he’ll be finished. Lev wants to hurt Connor back, to ruin everything, but he says nothing. He pictures his brother sitting in the corner at the tithing party, sullen and bitter, a leashed dog at the hand of their parents, and he feels sick. If Connor is leaving, Lev wants him gone.  
  
“Good point, Mom,” he mumbles.

  
For the rest of the night, Lev wants to be alone. His parents make it nearly impossible. They mean well, but if anything, their insistence on spending every waking hour with him is more nerve-wracking than helpful. It makes his tithing so imminent. Not a bad thing, or course, but it’s still early.  
  
He humors them for a while with a dull game of scrabble made worse by their attempts to make it memorable. Then says he wants to go to bed early. It isn’t lying, technically, since he does sit on his bed while he kills time doodling. No harm in that.  
  
After all of the effort, Connor decides to ruin it. He knocks and mumbles Lev’s name, even waits a few seconds for a response. But when Lev doesn’t answer, he walks in anyway. Typical.  
  
He’s holding a glass in each hand, and Lev doesn’t even have to look up to know what’s in them. “That’s pathetic. Even for you.”  
  
Just the scent of the cake shakes already gives Connor an unfair advantage. Lev remembers the day they spent flipping pancakes and tossing them into the blender, tweaking the recipe until their stomachs begged for mercy, the kitchen was a sticky, reeking catastrophe, and they’d gone through enough ingredients to feed all ten of the Calder kids instead of two, the only two who didn’t find the combination of pancakes and milkshakes to be completely disgusting. That was a whole day. He had less than seven left.  
  
“What, peace offerings are pathetic now?” Connor holds one out to Lev, but he doesn’t look up from the notebook in his lap. Resigned, Connor puts Lev’s shake on the bedside table, sits cross-legged on the end of the bed, and takes a sip of his own own. “I threw out the tickets.”  
  
“Don’t lie to me after I already covered your ass.”  
  
“Nah,” Connor says softly, rubbing a thumb across the edge of his glass. “It’s true.”  
  
Lev stops drawing, but doesn’t look up. “How do I know?”  
  
“Can you take my word for it? I’m kind of sick of lying, honestly.”  
  
For a while it’s quiet, with Connor passively staring down his shake and Lev rocking his pencil between two fingers. Connor tries again.  
  
"I don't think I was ever really going to go.”  
  
Lev ignores him, and feels somewhat satisfied as his brother’s tone gets more desperate.  
  
“You don’t have to forgive me, but I don’t think I can handle it if you won’t at least talk to me.”  
  
It seems bitterly obvious that he couldn’t have talked to Lev from Boston, either.  
  
“We only have a week. I’m going to miss you.”  
  
It’s the first time he’s ever said it.  
  
Finally risking a glance at the shake on the table, Lev raises an eyebrow at Connor. “Chocolate and banana?”  
  
“No shit. I’m an asshole, but I have a conscience.”  
  
Tossing his aimless doodles aside, Lev swipes the glass off the table and takes a sip. “Too thick. Mediocre at best.”  
  
They sit drinking their shakes in quiet, looking at anything but each other.  
  
“I really am sorry. I know I treat you like garbage sometimes.” Connor says eventually. “But I guess I’m kind of selfish, you know?"  
  
Lev starts fiddling with his straw, tracing lazy circles around the inside of the glass. "Remember that one time you left home last summer?"  
  
"You're going to have to be more specific.”  
  
Lev watches the straw dancing between his thumbs. "I think you went camping with your friends or something. It doesn't really matter. The point is, you told me to cover for you. Two days tops. So I did. You printed out a permission form for some summer study retreat thing and had Mom and Dad sign it, remember? I backed it up and they bought it...."  
  
“Yeah,” Connor says. “I know you hate doing that.”  
  
"Three days later, and you still weren’t home."  
  
The anger is fading, unfortunately, letting the hurt come back in full. They only have a week, and Lev needs Connor to understand.  
  
"Mom and Dad came to me and they said 'Hey, you know, we haven't heard from Connor in a few days. Do you know how long this retreat thing is supposed to last?' And I said 'I don't know, maybe a week? Maybe his phone isn't working, I'm sure it's fine.' And they bought it. Then I got to thinking, what if something happened, right? What if he's hurt or something?"  
  
He’s never told this to anyone before.  
  
"So I went out on my bike the next morning to look for you. I had no idea where to even start, so I'm just riding around wondering what to do, and I’m thinking of the alcohol and the drugs and everything and soon I'm ready to start checking hospitals. Can you believe that? I kind of thought, well, what if he got drunk and drove his car off the road or he got into a fight and lost and he's hurt or he's dead and I told mom and dad he was at summer camp? And nobody went looking for you?”  
  
A ring of dew from the bottom of the glass seeps into the leg of Lev’s pants. He focuses on the chill.  
  
"Eventually I freaked out, and I rode home to check the news for clapper attacks or whatever and tell mom and dad that I lied. I was going to tell them everything. When I got there, your car was in the driveway. I go inside and you're sitting on the couch, watching TV like you hadn't even left in the first place."  
  
Now Connor looks sorry. That’s something, at least.  
  
Lev shakes his head. "It was stupid.”  
  
“No it wasn’t.”  
  
There’s no way that Lev actually _owes_ Connor an explanation for anything. Then again, that isn’t the point. He wants to explain more, but he’s tired.  
  
“Can we talk about this tomorrow?”  
  
Connor straightens up. “Why? Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” He flops down onto his back and scrubs at his eyes, blocking out the light with the heels of his hands. From this angle, with his face tilted up toward the fixture on the ceiling, it’s blinding. “Just really tired. I need some sleep.”  
  
“Lev. Hey, look at me.” Connor says. Lev groans and squints as his brother grabs his arm and pulls it away from his face. When Lev turns his head to the side to escape the light, Connor is kneeling on the floor beside the bed, trying to catch his gaze. When did he get up?  
  
“Ugh. _What?_ "  
  
“Listen. Everything I do from here on out, I do for you. All of it. Do you understand me?”  
  
Lev snorts. “Okay, whatever. _So_ dramatic. We’ll see.”  
  
“Everything will be okay. I promise you.”  
  
"Okay, sure. Fine. Let me go to sleep."  
  
By the time Connor answers him, he's already drifted too far to listen.  
  
He dreams that he's being eaten alive by wolves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that the shorter chapters are very annoying, and I do apologize. It's just been a lot easier for me to keep writing and updating this particular fic that way, even if I do end up posting two or three at a time. I'll try to make them longer from now on. I'm really excited for 6, and it's already similar in length to this one, I believe. Also, I've gone back through and fixed some formatting issues, as well as editing parts of chapter 4.  
> Writing in the future is hard, but I like to think that scrabble is immortal.


End file.
